No, I Think Not
by ArikaEnnoid
Summary: Merope supposed that somethings just weren't meant to be. Not really very angst-y but still.


Merope Gaunt leaned out the window of the kitchen with her eyes closed.

_I sense there's something in the wind_

_That feels like tragedy's at hand…_

Ever since Bob Ogden had showed up at the cottage, her father and brother had been worse than usual—her cracked ribs were a testament to that. She could always feel a sense of foreboding lingering around the old place mixed with all the dust and stench and hatred. She was quite sure that those people from the ministry would be back to collect her family soon and she supposed that could've been it.

Her leaden grey eyes snapped open when she heard the soft noise of a horse-drawn carriage passing. She stared as Tom Riddle rode past with his beautiful fiance, Taylor Gregory if she wasn't mistaken.

_And though I'd like to stand by him_

_Can't shake this feeling that I have_

_The worst is just around the bend_

She brewed with passion everyday know that her brother and father were gone. She stirred, counter-clockwise. 1,2,3,4…. Clockwise 4,3,2,1.

It was all too easy. Tom happened to ride by on that sunny afternoon. Merope pushed her lank hair behind her ears and stood with a flush creeping up her face and a glass of potion in her hand. Tom bent slightly and kneeled with a smile that said quite clearly that he was only drinking to humor her.

Their whirlwind marriage was a scandal.

_And does he notice my feelings for him?_

_And will he see how much he means to me?_

_I think it's not to be_

Merope stood alone on the road with one hand resting upon her swollen stomach. She had hoped—perhaps against hope—that Tom would love her without the potion since they had been together for so long. She had attempted to persuade him that his child was in fact his but he ran, screaming all the while that she was an evil wretch.

She swore off magic as she gently pressed her fingers down on her stomach.

Some things, she mused, just weren't meant to be.

_What will become of my dear friend_

_Where will his actions lead us then?_

No one in town believed Tom of course. Many thought he was simply going senile at an early age, though his statements did place seeds of suspicion in nearly everyone's minds. If the girl was a witch, it would certainly the odd things that seemed to surround her family.

Merope simply hoped no one would think to investigate further or ask her any questions. As it was, Tom's accusations had led the kind people who gave her a few pieces of bread now and then to entirely forsake her. She often wondered about her baby and whether or not he would survive.

She prayed that if she died he wouldn't follow her.

_Although I'd like to join the crowd in their enthusiastic cloud_

_Try as I may, it doesn't last_

_And will we ever end up together?_

It had soon become necessary for Merope to sell her locket at Knockturn alley. She had to find some food for the baby and she was becoming desperate. Desperate enough to sell the only thing her father ever gave her. Her baby was much more important.

Finding food was a struggle. Many wizarding establishments took one look at her laughed and slammed the door in her face, no one would take in a young _mudblood_ who obviously couldn't take care of herself and would be no use to anyone. It filled Merope with an inexpressible rage. Didn't' they care for her son!? Why would they slam the door in the face of a pregnant young woman!?

Merope often watched from the shadows as women and men walked through the village with their child tugging on their hand, demanding they go places. She wished that she could join the sometime, her and her baby walking through the village together….

Alas, when she stepped out from among the shadows her deformed eyes and scruffy appearance did absolutely nothing for her. The townspeople abhorred Merope and attempt to stay as far away as possible. Sometimes she saw Tom. When she did, she would sink into the shadows and clench her tiny bag of coins closer to her.

At least, she would still have her baby with her.

_And will we ever end up together?_

_No, I think not, it's never to become_

She screamed in agony one last time. She heard no wailing and looked up, eyes filling with tears. Merope was sure that she simply would not be able to bear it if the only proof that Tom had once been hers didn't survive.

Grey eyes stared back at her and then as if only to appease her and mouth opened and an almighty wail ripped out of the child's throat.

"Name him… Tom for his father and Marvolo for his grandfather…. Tom Marvolo Riddle."

_For I am not the one._

**A/N: I was bored and just wanted to do a little thing on Merope having to go through making the potion and then ending up pregnant alone with only a handful of coins. The song is Sally's Song by Amy Lee**


End file.
